Drift Compatible
by Pavel-A-Chekov
Summary: Pacific Rim AU Pavel A. Chekov is everything the Jaeger program needs. He is young, he is smart and he is skilled. But when he loses his co-pilot in a fight against the Kaiju he notices that the drift does not only make you stronger. It also makes you easier to break. McChekov; some Chulu in the first chapter; Spirk; Uhotty. Warnings: Depression, Character Death, Self harm
1. Chapter 1

"Aren't you a bit young t'be here, kiddo?"

"Boy, I think you took the wrong way, this ain't the Elementary school."

The very young-looking teenager, sauntering through the hallways of the Shatterdome, didn't even listen to the various comments thrown into his direction. Instead he simply continued on his way. He had a large, brown duffel bag thrown over his shoulder, and though it would seem like the weight wasn't exactly fit for someone of his age or statue, he didn't even slow down as he climbed down the metal stairs. His pale face was framed with a halo of golden curls and the delicate features displayed a determination that was surprising. The boy's pale lips were pressed together in a thin line of concentration. His greenish-blue eyes seemed to take in everything around him, from the signs on the narrow metal doors to the flickering lights over his head, but he didn't pay a lot of attention to the people surrounding him. Like this, he didn't even notice that almost everybody he passed turned to stare at him as he walked by. There wasn't much that could surprise these people, especially not in times when huge monsters emerged from an interdimensional rip in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, but even then, this boy was different.

Pavel Andrejevich Chekov tried not to look like he was in a hurry, but he should've arrived about an hour ago and now he was desperate to find the room he had been assigned and then get to the Marshall to announce his arrival as he had been told to. He had memorised the floor plan, had stared at it for hours during his flight and he still couldn't find his room. At least it was way more difficult than he had expected. The system the Americans used on their military bases and aircraft carriers was the most difficult one he had encountered so far. Instead of using simple numbers for decks and hallways, they used letters. And the comments of those people he had encountered so far weren't helping either. They only made him feel more alone and lost, unable to ask someone for directions because they all thought he didn't belong here, so he kept his expression as void of emotions as possible.

Glancing at his watch he uttered a curse in his native language, only to bump into someone as soon as he stopped paying attention to what was in front of him. The force of the impact made him lose his balance completely; he dropped his bag and had to hold onto the other person to keep himself from falling. The man had instinctively reached out and pulled the Russian closer, holding him steady with one arm until the younger one was standing on his own feet again. Pavel felt his cheeks heating up as he stopped clinging to the other and hastily stepped back to reach for his bag. "I am wery sorry, ser. I did not pay attention," he mumbled, his words tinted with a heavy Russian accent. But the other only grinned and patted his shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie. "Neither did I. Guess it's more my fault. I should know better than to run around here."

The guy had black, ruffled hair, and eyes that were almost as dark. And he had a bit of a tan, even in the artificial light of the corridor, where the Russian's pale skin seemed almost translucent in comparison. "Hikaru Sulu. You seem lost, maybe I can help you out there." He introduced himself, still smiling and Pavel answered with a nod and a small smile of his own. "Where do you have to go?"

Reaching into his pocket, the Russian pulled out a folded piece of paper. "I vas told to bring my zings to ze room and zen wisit Marshall to tell I am here." And then: "My name is Pavel. Pavel Chekov." Hikaru picked the paper out of his hands and frowned, losing the smile as quickly as it had appeared on his features. He looked up again, eying the teen for a little longer, before he nodded and handed the paper back to its owner. "We're almost there, Pavel. Down the corridor and to the left."

Pavel blinked. The sudden change in behaviour was definitely confusing. But he didn't have the time to think about how he could've upset this man in a matter of mere seconds, instead he muttered a 'Zank you' and threw the bag over his shoulders again. They walked down the corridor in complete silence, only the sound of their heavy boots echoed from the metal walls. Once they reached their destination, the young pilot breathed in relief. Just as he stepped inside the room, though, he was stopped by the other's words. "Two stories up and to the right. You'll find the Marshall's office there." And before he could even thank him again, he was already gone. Weird. Shaking his head, Pavel turned around and entered his room. It was only a tiny bit smaller than the one he had had in the Shatterdome in Vladivostok and he doubted he would've any difficulties adjusting to this one. That is, if he even got the time to adjust. If everything went as planned, he wasn't about to stay here for very long.

And he still had to hurry.

Dropping his bag on the floor, he searched for the rest of his papers and then left the room, throwing the door shut behind him.

He was almost two hours too late, as he finally knocked on the right door, only to be called inside after a few seconds. The Marshall wasn't at all what he expected and he wasn't alone in the large room. With him was the guy he had met earlier, Hikaru, and the expression on the dark haired man's face made Pavel feel like he had just interrupted a heated discussion of some sorts. But instead of paying too much attention to the other, he turned to face the Marshall. He saluted, but the older man just waved and motioned for him to stand comfortable. Feeling Hikaru's gaze on him, he shifted a bit as he waited to be addressed. He was used to the strict rules of his homeland's military- used to be only allowed to speak when he was told to, and it obviously wasn't what his now superior officer had been expected.

"Welcome to America, Mister Chekov. We were waiting for you." The Russian gave a short nod and handed over the papers. "Zank you, ser." He thought about apologising for his late arrival for a little moment but his former trainer had told him again and again that apologising is a sign of weakness and showing weakness was the last thing he wanted to do. "I take full responsebility for ze delay. I hope I am not too late for ze selektion."

None of the other recruits had believed him when he said he was the best and most of them ended up regretting it once they stepped up to challenge him in a fair fight. The teen didn't possess the strength, the height, or the weight his opponents had but he was fast. His movements were gracious and it seemed like he was planning every single step he took. And he was the best. Pavel felt sweat running down his forehead but he ignored it, taking a few steps back. He held the staff loosely; putting no real force behind his swings as he easily dodged the other's attack. It almost looked as if he was dancing. Actually, his father had forced him to take dancing lessons on top of the various fighting classes he had to pass in order to become a Jaeger pilot. And he was grateful. No matter how much he still despised his father, the old man had been right about a lot of things.

The Russian knew every single person in this room was watching him, including the Marshall and this Hikaru guy, and he felt some kind of smug confidence flood through him as he whirled around and sent his opponent to the ground, one foot firmly set on his chest. They still underestimated him and he wasn't stupid enough to go easy on them. It was their fault and he was using their weakness without hesitation like a true fighter should. And yet he never felt anything during the fight. From what they had been told, he was supposed to be in unison with his co-pilot. They were supposed to fit together, to have a natural chemistry. Even though he was obviously proving that he was good, he still felt like he was failing. The expression on the Marshall's face didn't even change as Hikaru picked up the staff and closed the distance between them.

Pavel wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve and stepped back, resting his weight on his left foot, as he waited for the other to attack. But Hikaru didn't. Instead he continued to circle him, calmly, almost relaxed and at the same time alert. The Russian felt as if his defences were stripped away under the other's gaze and a feeling of nervousness overcame him. Instead of waiting any longer he leapt forward, whirling his weapon around and aiming for the other's head. But instead he hit nothing but air, as the man ducked and landed a kick against his legs that almost sent him to the ground. Barely able to catch himself, Pavel stumbled backwards, parrying a series of blows. Before he could even regain his balance, he felt a huff of air against his cheek and saw the other's staff hovering inches above his skin. Eyes widened in surprise and shock he stared at the other man, as Hikaru stepped back, a smile playing around his lips. There was no way this guy was winning against him!

In a swift movement he took the staff in his left hand instead of the right one before he attacked again, this time more careful. He was fighting the feelings of nervousness and anger. He had to stay calm, rational, had to make sure his movements weren't getting sloppy. And this time he caught Hikaru off guard, getting behind him and gently touching his back with his staff to indicate that he would've landed a deadly blow.

From there on the match got even more difficult, it was as if they were matched, not only in speed and agility but also in thought. With most of the other cadets he had been able to predict their next moves but Hikaru surprised him again and again. The fight took longer than any before and in the end it was Pavel who stumbled and fell, the cool wood pressed against his throat, while his own staff was lying uselessly on the ground several meters away. They stayed like this for a moment, neither of them moving a muscle, before Hikaru slowly stepped back and offered him a hand. "I still do not know if I can trust you, kid. But it seems like you're better than I thought." The man grinned and helped him up. Pavel inwardly shook his head, still a bit shocked that he had actually lost. But then he returned the grin. Another moment passed and they still held each other's hand. Pleasant warmth spread from their touching hands through his whole body and Pavel didn't even let go, as the Marshall told them to be ready by 0700 hours the next day for their first drift together.

The others left and they were still standing there, hand in hand, gazing into each other's eyes until Hikaru cleared his throat and let go, only to touch his shoulder instead. "Now why don't we get something to eat? I wouldn't want my new co-pilot to starve to death before we even get the chance to hunt Kaiju together."

* * *

-2 Years later-

* * *

Pavel didn't really expect anybody to remember his birthday. The only real friends he had were Nyota and Scotty, a couple of Jaeger pilots and the best ones he had ever personally met and they were on their way to China to fight against an unknown and unnamed Kaiju. But he was more than a little sad that his own co-pilot and boyfriend Hikaru hadn't even said a word. They hadn't even seen each other the whole day; Pavel had been down in the labs, listening to Mister Gottlieb's newest theory about the frequency of the Kaiju attacks, and Hikaru had been somewhere doing whatever he was doing.

He sighed. Why was he even sad about the whole thing? He should be used to it already. His father had forgotten about his birthdays ever since his mother had died back in 2009. And the last two years had been an exception. His lips curled into a smile, as he remembered the birthday party his friends had thrown for him last year, surprising him completely not only with a huge cake, but also with a whole bunch of presents - mostly books and more books. Hikaru had actually bought him an IPod with all his favourite music so he wouldn't have to complain about the man talking to his plants every evening while Pavel was trying to study. But the best present had been the kiss Hikaru had given him after the other two had returned to their rooms: a soft, gentle, and completely platonic kiss, but it was still a kiss. They had gotten together only a few months later, after fighting a Kaiju that had almost destroyed Hawaii. And it was the best time in Pavel's life. They would cuddle, they would kiss, and they would fight. They were heroes and lovers. They had never had sex though because Hikaru kept telling him that he was too young and that he couldn't do it with someone who wasn't even legal.

Opening the door to his room, he almost dropped the book he held in his hands, quirking his eyebrows in surprise as he saw Hikaru sitting on the edge of his bed, dressed in the most elegant outfit he had ever seen him in. "Happy Birthday Pasha." The man grinned, obviously amused by his boyfriend's surprise and stood up. "You should hurry up and get dressed if you don't want to go like this." There was nothing wrong with the clothes he was wearing, he wanted to say, but the words got caught in his throat as the other took his hand and pulled him in for a long, passionate kiss. Pavel melted against his lover, wrapping his arms around the other's neck and kissing him back with the same hunger. Their lips moved in the same rhythm as their bodies rubed against each other, as Hikaru's hands slowly slid from his waist to his back and under the dark shirt, caressing the bare skin with his fingertips. Sharp teeth nipped at his bottom lip, and a daring tongue used the moment of surprise to slide between his slightly parted lips and into his mouth, teasing his own tongue into a passionate dance.

"Vhat... vhat is zis?" Pavel murmured huskily, as they broke apart for air and he could feel the smirk forming on the other's lips. "Birthday present?" Hikaru's eyes were ven darker than usually, lust and arousal clouding the orbs, as he leant down to lick over Pavel's exposed neck. "I actually wanted to take you out for dinner... but now I think we could stay here." And with that he grabbed his back and lifted him. With a startled yelp, he wrapped his legs around his boyfriend, as the man simply carried him over to the back, throwing him onto the mattress. "You haff to close ze door..." The grin on the Russian's lips was wide enough to almost reach his ears as he watched the other jump to his feet and rush over to close the door. And he had thought the other had forgotten all about his birthday...

Hikaru approached him, slowly this time, taking his time to savour the sight before he joined him on the bed and crawled on top of him. His fingers were running over his chest, brushing over the still-clothed nipples, as he pressed another kiss to his Pasha's lips. They both wanted it. There was nothing to hold them back now, nothing to make them stop this, nothing but... The noise of the sirens cut through the silence filled with heavy breathing and startled the two pilots. Following Hikaru's example he hastily sat up, fingers still trembling, as he practically rolled out of the bed. "Fuck it." The young Russian could hear the disappointment in the other's voice, as he leant down to press a quick kiss to his lips. "We'll continue this after we're back, kay?" Pavel only nodded, his face red like a tomato, as he glanced down at the visible bulge in his pants. Wonderful. He tried to will his erection down, as they both changed into their skin tight dark clothes without exchanging another word. No matter how bad the timing was, if there was something coming through the breach, there was not a second to waste.

As they ran to the Drivesuit room, Pavel had successfully pushed aside most of the thoughts about what exactly Hikaru and he had been up to only a few minutes ago. And he was grateful that the whole haste wasn't exactly a turn-on. At least it saved him a lot of embarrassment. The technicians who helped him into his Drivesuit seemed to notice something anyway, but they were all trained professionals so he didn't get anything but a friendly wink.

So much had changed during the last two years. The women and men respected him now: nobody was calling him a baby or too young anymore, and Hikaru and he were famous for their good work. They had even been called the best Jaeger pilots ever, together with Spock and James T. Kirk - the pair that operated the famous Mark-4 Jaeger T'hy'la. And yet he still felt the same nervousness and anticipation creep up his spine as he entered the Conn-Pod. He had never been afraid of a mission, only respectful and aware that it could be his last one. But this time it was different. Something was different, and he felt a cold wave of fear rush through his body as he was connected to the operating system. He tried to push the feeling aside. He needed to have his head clear of everything if he wanted the drift to be successful and fast. They never had anything to say to each other before the drift, since there just weren't any words that described what followed. They entered each other's heads, each other's thoughts; they became one, truly and fully.

Closing his eyes, he leant back and waited for the usual dizziness, the rush of the adrenaline through his veins, and the feeling of being Pavel and not being Pavel at the same time. There were no more memories they could exchange, everything their minds showed each other was already known, had already been seen, and then quickly returned to being conscious. The Jaeger's head was dropped and Pavel immediately felt the change, it was merely an itch. What followed was the usual drill. Raising one leg, raising the other leg, opening both hands and then smashing the fists together in a gesture that displayed their eagerness to fight whatever got in their way. Or the other way around.

Their Jaeger was dropped about five hundred metres away from the shore and the moment they touched the ground, they began to walk. It was straining, his muscles were complaining about the strength the mere act of moving the giant colossus demanded, but it was something he had learnt to tune out very easily. "It's a Category III Kaiju. Name is Tentalus. Lucky Nightshade, get it away from the coast. We can't risk losing the city!" They answered in unison, uttering a 'Yes Sir!' before they continued on their way. The deeper the water got, the harder it was to move the Jaeger, but both of them were too focused on their screens to even notice it.

"Monsters like zat are reeson vhy I do not sleep at night..." Pavel muttered, as the sensors indicated something right in front of them. It moved right under the surface of the water and it was rapidly getting closer. They were about a kilometre from the coast away now and their Jaeger was almost completely underwater, with only the shoulders and the head still above the waves. Moving their feet ever so slightly, they stabilised their stance and not a second too early, as something burst out of the water right in front of them. A long slender body, adorned with the usual armour and a long row of spikes and it ended in a set of long tentacles. Pavel hated things with tentacles. As a kid he had always been afraid of octopods, a fear his father had luckily never found out about or he would've probably forced him to swim with one, only to get rid of it. But now was neither the time nor the place for fears or memories, not while they had to focus on killing that beast and while Hikaru was forced to live through every thought of his as well.

The Kaiju uttered a roar that resonated through the metal of their Jaeger and before they were even able to throw the first punch, the beast wrapped its tentacles around their arms, tightening, until they could barely move. They shared a short glance before the smile returned to Hikaru's face. They had trained this, not with something like that but what was the difference between claws and tentacles? They twisted the right arm, far enough to grab the tentacle, and pulled as forceful as possible. The long silver blade slid out of the place right above the Jaeger's wrist. Another set of tentacles were wrapped around their chest and their head, but it was too late. The blade cut almost easily through the Kaiju's flesh, freeing their right arm. Now it was only a matter of... They were pushed backwards, the tentacles all retreating for a moment, as the Kaiju screamed its pain into the world. It was a shrill, high-pitched sound that left them deaf for a little moment, ringing in their ears.

"Now!" Pavel wasn't quite sure whether it was him or Hikaru who had yelled but they leapt forward, one hand grabbing the beast's throat and the other raised to slay it with their trusted sword. The Kaiju was more agile then they thought. It easily twisted its head in their grip, biting down on their arm and tearing at the metal. Pain shot through their system. Pavel let out a scream, Hikaru bit his teeth together. They tried to free their arm, by letting go of the beast and at the same time cutting off another tentacle. The arm was damaged, too damaged to move it. Now they had only the right hand left to fight. They jumped the Kaiju. Their Jaeger's weight pressed it underwater and the amounts of sand in the water around them made it impossible to see what they were aiming for, but they continued to swing the arm with the blade.

And then suddenly: Water. They both screamed in unison, as something pierced the metal of the Jaeger's head. They brought the arm forth, trying to protect themselves and they hit something. The blade was stuck, probably between the ribs or unable to cut through the spine. The Kaiju's struggling sent vibration after vibration through their Jaeger. But they had not yet won. The beast's teeth were still continuing on their fatal way to the Conn-Pod. "Lucky Nightshade! You have to get away! Retreat!" But that was easier said than done. The Kaiju seemed to hold onto the Jaeger with all his might, trying to take them with it into its death. Fear. Fear and panic flooded their systems, both of them struck at the same time, as the Jaeger's shell was ripped open. Suddenly they were surrounded by water. Nothing but water. The lights turned red, and there was a shrill sound of sirens and warnings in their ear. They struggled with all their might, trying to retract the blade and get away from the dying beast.

But then it happened. The tip of one of the thinner tentacles slid through the crack in the Jaeger's head, feeling for whatever living beings might be inside. Pavel screamed in panic and pain as the thing reached Hikaru, wrapping around his body and tearing him away from the controls. They were still connected. He could feel the pain with the same intensity as Hikaru did. Save yourself Pasha. He could hear it in his thoughts, he could see it in Hikaru's eyes and in the way he gestured for him to get to the escape hatch and get away. But he couldn't move. It was as if he was frozen in his place enduring the same pain, the panic, the knowledge that he would die right now.

And then his body finally obeyed his commands. With trembling fingers, he shut off the connection. His mind was still clouded with pain but he could think now, he could think of a way to save his beloved and himself. His suit wasn't exactly designed for swimming but he made it to the split. Pavel grabbed one of the loose splinters, about the length of his arm and turned around. He felt tears sting in his eyes as he saw that Hikaru's were closed, his chest no longer moving. No. NO. He couldn't be dead! He was just unconscious, only unconscious! He mobilised his last reserves, swimming against the force of the whirling waters, not even realising that he was running short of oxygen.

Hikaru! The tentacle was no longer moving. Maybe, maybe he was lucky enough and the Kaiju was finally dead! He reached his co-pilot, grabbed his arm, and shoved the splinter into the lifeless tentacle, trying to cut through whatever kind of texture it was.

His arms hurt.

He felt dizzy.

Every breath was a torture.

His lungs were burning.

Pavel could feel his hands were no longer able to hold the splinter...

And then he was through!

With his last strength he grabbed Hikaru's arm and swam, through the hole in the Jaeger's head and up to where he was sure had to be the surface. He couldn't see a thing for the water was stained with Kaiju blood. But he saw that it was getting brighter. He saw that he was getting closer...

His head burst through the water's surface and he immediately pulled off the helmet, filling his lungs with air. But there was no relief. He held Hikaru's body close to his own, taking off his helmet and kissing his lips in an attempt to feel if he was still there... They were cold.

No.

He felt hot tears run down his cheeks, as he continued to cling to the other's body, trying his best to keep moving his legs so he wouldn't sink and drown after all, but it was useless. The last bit of strength was leaving his body.

The last thing he heard was the sound of helicopters above him, as the darkness pulled him under its wing again.

_Hikaru..._


	2. Chapter 2

-3 Years later-

"Mister Chekov?" The gentle voice, as well as the soft touch on his shoulder jolted him awake. "Mister Chekov, I am really sorry but you will have to go now." The Russian only nodded and the nurse smiled at him, her usual smile that was supposed to tell him that she knew what he was going through. But he didn't care for other people's sympathy. He wasn't a broken doll that had to be handled with care... He glanced at his watch and sighed. Of course he had to go; the time for visitors had ended about an hour ago. The nurses only let him stay longer because they felt sorry for him, because he was here every day. Because he was always just sitting here next to this bed with the white sheets, in this room with the white walls and the white shades in front of the window. Even the sky was white or rather grey today. Rain was falling softly and was hitting the window with a soothing and rhythmic sound. But he didn't care. He didn't care about many things these days.

His gaze wandered to the person in the bed, the tan long lost, the strong muscles melted away with the time he had spent here lifeless, his hair even messier than usual and with the first signs of grey around his temples. His eyes were closed - his wonderful, beautiful, dark eyes. Pavel reached out and gently took one of the other's hands in his own, stroking the skin with a feathery touch as if he was afraid that it would break. And he was. "I vill come back tomorrow." He whispered, as he did always, every day, and then he gently placed the hand back on the sheets. He moved around the bed to press a soft kiss to the man's forehead. "I vill be here Hekahru. Shall I bring you somezeng? Anozer flower?" It was the only thing that wasn't white in this room. The sheer amount of flowers was breathtaking. But he had had three years to bring them all here, each one with a small pot and an instruction for the nurses how to properly take care of them. And they did. It had surprised the Russian a little bit at first, that they actually agreed with the whole plan, but their status as heroes was probably helping there. The people still had respect for him, for them. They always said they would love to help him if it was something they could do to repay what they had given to protect them from the Kaiju.

Pavel left the building, shoulders slumped and gaze focused on the pavement under his shoes, as he headed into the direction of his home. Yes, his home. He was no longer living in the Shatterdome, was no longer part of the military, and was no longer a Jaeger pilot: a hero. He had left as soon as he had been able to sign the forms himself, leaving everything behind in order to deal with his memories and his broken heart. And he was broken. He hadn't spoken a word with anybody from the program since then. They had transferred Hikaru to a public hospital because they didn't want to take care of him in their base and thus they had also gotten rid of him. They were still paying for Hikaru's stay at the hospital; they were still paying his rent and bills. And they had probably instructed the nurses to look out if he was still alive. But they had abandoned him just as everybody else had. And he didn't even mind.

He was cold. The rain drenched him within minutes, as he had forgotten his coat in the small run-down apartment he was living in. He didn't care. Pavel made his way through the small and dark alleyways, knowing that people stared at him. He heard the faint echo of footsteps behind him, multiple footsteps and he smiled. It was the only thing that made him feel alive these days. He had tried drinking, taking drugs, hurting himself. But nothing had ever worked the way this did. So he took these streets on purpose, knowing that his small stature and his beautiful and pale face attracted enough attention. And there always people who were stupid enough to fall for him.

"Hey, sweetheart!" He heard one of them call out and quickened his pace pretending to run away, only to guide them into another alley he knew was a dead-end. "Got ya, baby." A rough voice, dark and ugly. They laughed. The Russian didn't turn around until he felt a big hand on his shoulder, way too close to his neck.

Then he whirled around and punched the guy. He heard and felt the man's nose break and he stumbled backwards, staring at him in shock and anger. Pavel only stood there and smiled. His hand didn't even hurt. He had fought much stronger and bigger opponents in his days as a pilot. The other guys moved to attack him and he felt the adrenaline rush through his veins, felt how his heart began to beat faster, felt that he was _alive_. He kicked the next guy, right into his stomach and he sunk to the ground, obviously about to puke. The first guy was back, trying to grab his neck, while his friend pulled out a knife. Pavel only laughed. A cold, empty laugh and grabbed the knife. It cut through his hand smoothly, blood trickling down his wrist and the guy let go, staring at him in shock before turning around and running away. The first guy hit the back of his neck, sending a jolt through Pavel's body but he wasn't precise enough to do any real damage. The Russian was about to turn around and take him out, as two more figures appeared in the alley. Good for him. He wasn't done yet...

But then there was another voice, equally dark but a lot softer and gentler, though it was cold and tinted with disgust. "Three against one. Has your mama not taught you that this isn't really gentlemanly?" Pavel squinted to see who the new guy was, but he couldn't see much through the shadow and the falling rain. The man with the broken nose used the chance and grabbed his arm, yanking him backwards and pressing a gun against his temple. The ex-pilot huffed and ducked, fast enough to surprise the other and without even looking he kicked the gun out of his hand. "You vant somezeng from me?" He hissed in a twisted and weird way enjoying the expression of pure fear on the bastard's face. His hand connected with the other's throat, leaving him choking and gasping for air, as he knelt down to pick up the weapon.

He pocketed the gun and turned around to look out for the other two guys, only to see one of them running away in panic and the other one crouched on the floor, holding his head in pain. "I did not need your help." Pavel kept his voice void of every emotion, as he moved towards the exit of the alley, only to be stopped by someone else. The man was taller than he was, bigger, obviously older and he smelled like disinfectants. "Of course you don't, kiddo, you're a Jaeger pilot." Pavel arched his eyebrows and tried to read something in the other's face but he couldn't even see it properly in the twilight that was surrounding them. "And how vould you know zat?" He was sure to see something like a smile play around the other's lips but only for a second before it was gone again. "Saw you in the news. You and your partner. You were the pilots of the Nightshade, right?"

Pavel winced. Hearing those words hurt a lot more than they should after three years of being out. He had no partner anymore and the Jaeger was lying somewhere on the ground of the ocean in an eternal embrace with a rotting Kaiju. "You forgot ze Lucky." He mumbled, taking a step back, as he tried to keep his voice from shaking. He sounded bitter, but not as bitter as he felt.

"Huh?"

"She vas called Lucky Nightshade." He shrugged and wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to warm up a little bit. He suddenly felt so much more vulnerable than only minutes ago. This man knew him, he knew what he had been and he probably even knew what happened. And he didn't even sound like most people who did. He had no pity in his voice; he wasn't even trying to convince him that he was a hero. "I'm sorry." The Russian shrugged again. "Is alright. She vas not lucky in ze end." And he didn't want to talk about it. He had never talked, aside from this one time he had to for his report but then he had simply shut up about the matter. But it was always present in his thoughts, not a single night passed without nightmares, not a single day he didn't think about what he could've done better.

They stood there for a little moment in silence, before the man reached out and took his hand. The younger man winced again; about to pull his hand away, as he felt gentle fingers run over the edges of the fresh cut. "I'm a doctor, kid. I only want to make sure this won't get infected." And Pavel let him, he let the man pull him out of the dark alley and under one of the small roofs that covered the stairs of the abandoned house. He let him disinfect the wound, and wrap a bandage around it. He almost didn't feel the sting. "Hurt anywhere else?" He shook his head and the other let go of his hand. "Good."

Another short moment of silence and the Russian was about to just go as the man spoke again. "How about a drink? You look like you need it, kiddo. I'll even invite you." He hesitated. It sounded good, tempting since alcohol was still a good way to drown everything for a little while, now that the wonderful feeling of adrenaline and life was slowly disappearing again, leaving behind the same emptiness as before. "Okay." The man seemed to think about something, tilting his head and eying the younger one for a moment, before he shrugged off his coat and threw it around the 'curly haired kid's' shoulders. "Don't want you catching a cold or worse," he simply said before walking away, obviously expecting the other to follow him. The kind gesture surprised Pavel and he instinctively breathed in the other's scent. He smelled coffee, the same disinfectants he had noticed earlier and something else, something he couldn't pinpoint but it was definitely a pleasant scent. Soothing somehow.

He hurried to follow the older man, wordlessly falling into step with him until they had left this darker part of the town and headed towards a small bar. It wasn't too far away from his place and he had already been here, but he was quite certain he had never met this man before. Or maybe he had and he had simply been too drunk to remember it. The doctor held the door open for him and he stepped inside, the sudden warmth causing him to shiver. But it felt good. He followed the other to the counter and sat down next to him, the coat still resting on his shoulders. "Your name." It wasn't really a question; he was simply stating that the other hadn't even told him who exactly he was. "McCoy. Leonard McCoy." He quirked an eyebrow and Pavel almost smiled. It looked impressive and reminded him of someone, but he couldn't quite remember who it was. "Call me whatever you want, as long as it isn't 'Bones'." He didn't ask, simply repeated the name to feel the way it fell off his lips. "Leonard." _Doctor Leonard McCoy_. Somehow he felt like he had heard the name before but it could also be just an illusion, created by his paranoia.

He downed the drink the other offered him. And the next one. And the next one.

They didn't talk much, they only drank, both lost somewhere in their own thoughts and Pavel couldn't quite deny that it felt good. He felt weirdly comfortable around this man. But he would feel comfortable around everyone with this amount of alcohol in his blood, he told himself and reached out for the next glass. Only that his hand was grabbed before he could even touch it. He looked up only to lose himself in the man's eyes for a moment. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was something else but he felt like he was falling and before he knew it he was in the other's arms. Strong, warm and gentle arms, holding him close. He felt the hot breath on his skin. He smelled the alcohol. And he closed his eyes. Leonard pulled him even closer, until they were pressed flush together and Pavel's lips brushing over his. It sent another shiver down his back, a pleasant one this time and he leant in, gently kissing this stranger, like he had spent years of his life loving him. His hands ran over the other's shoulders before he wrapped his arms around him and pressed against him. Heat pulsed through his body as the other licked over his lips, demanding to be let in.

Leonard tasted like alcohol, like alcohol and something entirely unknown and it tasted good. It wasn't a graceful dance of tongues: it was a battle and the big hands were running over his back, reducing him to a quivering mess. He was unable to think. There was nothing left inside his mind as long as the kiss lasted but once they broke it, everything came back. He gasped and backed off, breaking out of the gentle embrace and falling back onto his own stool. "No!" His voice was trembling and higher pitched than usually. "I- I can not..." He clenched his fists, unsure whether to listen to his conscious or his body that told him to continue what they had just began.

The doctor watched him for a moment and Pavel could see neither disappointment nor anger in his eyes and it surprised him. There was only curiosity and want, a want that made Goosebumps appear on his arms. "What's wrong, darlin'?" He only shook his head. Thinking was still a bit difficult, considering what the other's voice alone did to him, but he wouldn't give in. He loved Hikaru. And only Hikaru. And he would wait for him to wake up again, even if it took decades. "Got a boyfriend or something?" The question caught him completely off guard and his eyes went wide but then he shook his head. "No. Is just... I..." Why did he lie? If he loved Hikaru, why did he not tell this man that he _did_ have a boyfriend waiting for him? "Is just not best time... after eweryzeng..." He suddenly felt a lot more sober than before and practically jumped to his feet. "I haff to go. Zank you for eweryzeng..." But the man grabbed his wrist to keep him from running away.

Pavel's instincts immediately told him to fight back, panic rising inside his chest just from being held back like this but nothing happened. He only searched around in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, scribbling down his number. Then he let go of his wrist again, a small smile on his lips. "Call me. No matter what. I won't try anything you don't want, promise."

The Russian nodded and grabbed the paper. He didn't even manage to force a smile onto his lips; neither did he look back as he stumbled out of the bar. But he held the paper pressed close to his chest and he was still wearing the other's too big coat.


	3. Chapter 3

_Long tentacles searching their way through the darkness._

_A blind monster trying to find him._

_They wrapped around him._

_They suffocated him._

_He couldn't breathe._

_He felt his bones crush under the pressure._

_He felt the cold of the water around him._

_He felt the loneliness._

_He felt lost._

_And everything was dark._

He awoke with a start, his forehead sweaty and his whole body trembling. It was always the same dream that haunted him in the night, always the same thing that came to finish the job and kill him. Sometimes there was Hikaru's voice, telling him that it was his fault, that he had been the one to screw everything up. And Pavel believed it. In the beginning he had fought against it, he had replied that it hadn't been his fault, that he had saved his life. But with every night he lost his certainty, with every night he believed the words a little more. Until he was finally giving in, until he was blaming himself for everything that had happened. And it was his fault. He should've reacted faster; he should've broken the connection right away and gotten Hikaru and himself out of there before the other was injured. Maybe it had even been his stupid fear that made them hesitate. If they had attacked earlier and with another tactic, they might've won.

Pavel sighed and blinked, the ceiling was dirty. There were huge stains, obviously from some unknown liquid that had been spilled in the room above this one. The whole apartment looked like this: small, dirty, and run down, but he had never thought about moving. It was the cheapest one he had gotten this close to the hospital. And he usually wasn't spending his days here anyway. He was either at the hospital or somewhere in the city, looking for trouble.

He turned around and buried his face in the coat that had shared his bed this night. It still smelled like the doctor a little bit, though he had no idea why the scent was so soothing to him. Without looking up, he reached for the pack of cigarettes on his nightstand. He knew it was unhealthy. He knew his father would kill him if he knew about it. But his father was probably still not over the shock that his son was no longer a Jaeger pilot.

The Russian lit the cigarette and took a drag. Even those things didn't have that much of an effect anymore. They tasted like shit but they calmed him.

Pavel didn't go to the hospital that day, instead he simply laid there, not feeling particularly hungry or in any way motivated to get up. He turned the small piece of paper in his hands, staring at the numbers that had been scribbled down in haste. "Leonard." He didn't understand why he felt like calling the man, not to make out, but simply to sit with him in silence. Maybe he was just getting lonely after three years of seeing nobody and talking to nobody but the nurses at the hospital and his boyfriend who probably didn't even hear him. At least he didn't start talking to himself..

He was about to light himself another cig as he heard the doorbell. For a moment he considered just ignoring it, since it was probably just one of the neighbours who had lost their own key or was too drunk to find their keyhole. Yeah, he lived in this kind of neighbourhood where the people were getting drunk before 3pm. The doorbell was rung again and he rolled out of the bed, hastily throwing over one of his way-too-big shirts and slipping on his jeans. He opened the door, with a scowl on his face, ready to send whoever it was standing there, away without as much as a second thought.

But it wasn't one of the neighbours. Neither some annoying salesman. It was Marshall Christopher Pike.

"Mister Chekov." The man eyed him for a moment, obviously not pleased at all by what he saw but Pavel couldn't bring himself to care about the other's opinion. "How can I help you, ser?" How can the crippled soldier help their Master? Have you come to grant me your pity? The man obviously didn't intend to leave without having talked and so Pavel stepped aside, letting the other inside. A faint feeling of shame crept up in his chest, as he led Pike into the kitchen. He had only one chair and nothing to offer the other, neither to drink nor to eat. But the other was obviously not expecting anything from him anyway. Not after he had seen his condition and the place he was living in. The Marshall sat down and kept watching him, as he leant against the kitchen table.

"You look like shit, Pavel." It was a fitting description of how he felt right now. Pavel thought and shrugged, running a hand through his messy hair. He needed a shower, he probably smelled like sweat and alcohol. The man sighed and Pavel wasn't sure what to make of the look on his face. Pike had always been kind to him, more like a father than a superior officer and he had been the only one who tried to talk him out of leaving three years ago. Even now, his expression was soft, almost sad but at the same time serious. He wasn't here to check on him, he wanted something.

And it was obviously urgent. He didn't even wait for the Russian's answer to his remark. "Have you seen the news lately? They're cutting our funding. The Jaeger program is shut down." Pavel nodded. He had neither a TV nor a radio in his small apartment but it had been all over the news the last months and on the big screens of the underground stations. They had began cutting the funds and building the Anti-Kaiju-Wall only a few months after their incident with Tentalus but they had only announced the complete shutdown of the program a few months ago. Because the governments claimed the human would be safe behind that wall.

At then this Kaiju, Mutavore, had broken through the wall. Pavel hadn't paid much attention to what was going on after the event. He had figured they would find a solution, talk their way out of the situation and something would happen. It didn't concern him.

"I need you back."

He looked up in surprise. "Vhy?"

"We're going to attack the Breach. To shut it down. We don't have many Jaegers left and even less pilots. We need you because you are the best."

The Russian shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets and instead of looking at the other he stared at his bare feet. "I am out. I do not vant to haff anyzeng to do viz your var."

"MY war? It's the Kaiju's war. And we need you. The world needs you. Hikaru needs you! Don't you think this city is a bit too close to the sea? It'll be next and if that happens, they will only evacuate those who aren't a _nuisance._ You come with us to Hong Kong and I'll make sure he's transferred too. We have the best medical stuff of the country and we're best suited to take care of him. You do want him to wake up again, don't you?"

The younger man felt like screaming, he wanted to yell at the man to leave him in peace, to leave Hikaru out of this but Pike was right. And he didn't want to blame the other for what had happened. He gulped, hesitating slightly, before he whispered: "I haff no co-pilot. I cannot drift viz anybody but Hekahru." He couldn't and he wouldn't. He had sworn it to himself. He didn't think he would be able to trust someone else like this again, not completely, and the drift demanded complete trust. And he wouldn't let anyone get so close to him again, not after what had happened to Hikaru. Everyone he let into his life, died. Everyone he loved was leaving him in the end. His mother had left him, his father had sent him away, Nyota and Montgomery hadn't even tried to contact him after he had left and Hikaru... Hikaru was lying in this hospital, more dead than sleeping. How was he supposed to go through this again?

"I won't force you, Pavel. I only want you to try." He heard the unspoken '_We will find someone_' in the other's voice and it scared him. He wanted to ask for time to think about this, but there was no time and he didn't need it, he had already decided. You want revenge don't you? You want them to pay for what they have done to Hikaru. This is the only chance you get to make them suffer.

"Giwe me tventy meenutes."

He didn't have any personal things in his apartment; the only treasures he had taken with him as he left, were his books and the few photographs he had taken from Hikaru's room.

This time he didn't take them. He left them in a box on his bed without even throwing a last glance at them before he left. Throwing the duffel bag over his shoulder, he left his apartment, not bothering to lock up once he had thrown the door shut behind him. He would take new photos, if Hikaru ever woke up again and if he survived the assault on the Breach Pike was planning. New photos of them together in a world without the Kaiju and the constant fear of dying. His fingers curled around the piece of paper in his pocket and he almost felt sad because he would probably never see Leonard again. He didn't know why the thought clung to his conscious and why he was even considering calling the man but he wouldn't know what to tell him. Should he tell him that he was going away, to Hong Kong, to fight again and that he would never come back? He settled with doing nothing of the sort, instead he followed the Marshall to the Helicopter and sunk back in his seat, closing his eyes in an attempt to relax a bit.

It was a weird feeling to go back. Not that he had been in Hong Kong more than a few times, but it was weird to go back to being one of 'them'. Even if he wasn't actually going to fight because there wasn't possibly anyone who was fit to be his new partner.

They didn't talk during the flight, Pike only said a few things about their plan, but nothing specific, and Pavel answered with short nods to indicate that he understood what the older man explained him. "I want you to see the doctor once we're back. Get those treated." He gestured towards the bruises and small cuts on his face and the bandage that was still wrapped around his left hand. The Russian didn't complain.

The Shatterdome in Hong Kong wasn't as impressive as the one in Vladivostok or 'The Icebox' where they had been stationed most of the time but it was still a familiar sight and somehow he felt a bit less empty. Piloting a Jaeger had once been everything for him: His goal, his purpose, the one thing he was good at and he loved doing. Even the slight chance to return to this life was like cool balsam to the burning wounds inside of him. He remembered how amazing it felt to move the Jaeger, how the metal giant followed their every move with a precision that seemed impossible for something that big and he felt like he almost missed it. His own mind betrayed him, asking why he shouldn't be able to do it again...

They jumped out of the hovering helicopter and he remembered the first day in the Shatterdome in Alaska, how heavy the back on his shoulder had been how the nervousness had overcome him. Now the bag on his shoulders seemed a log lighter but he was still overwhelmed by a feeling of anxiety. He still carried the same expression as five years ago, his features blank. The building looked worse than he remembered, rusted doors, small and crammed. Some of the lights over his head were flickering, as he followed the signs to the small medical department.

He didn't recognise anyone and yet everybody he passed greeted him, either with a wide smile or a nod. And they all stared at him, almost in awe. It was as if he had become famous over the three years that he had been gone, like he was some kind of a legend here. He had only ever heard of two pilots that were this famous and both of them were supposed to be here as well. But he had never thought someone would even remember him or the Lucky Nightshade.

The young man stepped into the wide room, adorned with a few beds and filled with the sounds of peeping instruments, determined to get this over with as soon as possible. He didn't know whether to call out for someone or to just wait, as he heard a very familiar voice right next to his ear. "It's good to see you again, Pavel. Didn't think it would be this soon, though." He looked up and was met with a friendly smile on a very handsome face and a warm hand that rested on his shoulder.

"Leonard?"

He frowned, a dozen different thoughts crossing his mind at the same time. Judging from his clothes, the man was obviously working here and Pavel cursed himself not to have asked what kind of doctor the other was. He had definitely not expected to see him here of all places. And at the same time he felt betrayed somehow.

"Did Pike tell you to go and look for me?" He asked his voice cold and he took a step forward, away from the comfortable warmth. And he had almost believed to have met someone who seemed... nice. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the other questioningly, waiting for a reaction. "Kid. I don't go around and flirt with people because my boss tells me to." He heard the annoyance in Leonard's voice and the smile disappeared from his lips. "I talked to you because I saw you kick those guys' asses and I thought you were cute. I only recognised you once you stood right in front of me. And now get your sweet little ass on that bed so I can do my job and get you some ointment for your bruises."

Something in the way the other didn't even apologise for making Pavel believe that he had only tried to convince him to go back or whatever, forced a small smile onto the Russian's lips. He obeyed instantly, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

The man's hands were calloused but soft, gentle and he could touch his wounds all he wanted, it didn't hurt. Closing his eyes, he felt for the first time in a while, completely relaxed, almost leaning into the touch without noticing it. He shuddered, as the gentle fingers brushed over his collarbone and then carefully bandaged both his hands. He doctor's voice was deeper than before and he cleared his throat, before he ordered him to take off the shirt. The bruises on his upper body were older and Leonard began to carefully feel his ribs, making sure he didn't break one. The feeling made him lightheaded; shivers of pleasure running down his spine, but he ignored them. And McCoy didn't mention anything either.

Opening his eyes he grabbed his shirt, almost feeling a bit of regret, as he put it on again and returned to standing on his own two feet again. Neither of them said a word for a while and Pavel was doing his best not to look at the other, unable to say what exactly he was feeling in his presence. "You gotta go. You should go and get some rest. I don't think Pike will spare you any of the usual drill tomorrow." Leonard finally said, stepping back. He looked like he was trying to figure something out and then he smiled again. "You can come look for me anytime you want... I'm probably the only one in this hole who's got some good booze we can share."

Pavel left the room feeling like he was betraying not only Hikaru but himself, and at the same time he didn't even know if he cared.


	4. Chapter 4

The young pilot didn't sleep this night. He didn't even try, knowing that it would be of no use. Instead he followed the way his feet lead him. The training rooms were empty, nobody else was around at this time of the day but he didn't need help with the equipment. Pavel felt like he was in a trance; everything he touched, every move was so familiar, done a thousand times and yet it was like it had been a lifetime ago that he had last challenged the computer. It was as always nothing like the real thing, the drift with the computer: simply a test to see if he was calm enough to go through the connection without his feelings and thoughts getting in the way. He remembered the warmth Hikaru had always brought into the drift, just like a gentle embrace. And still the Jaeger simulator felt like the best way to find out if he was even physically capable of piloting.

One drop. One kill. It wasn't easy. Not as easy as it should've been. He had held the records back in the Academy but this time he had struggled.

His muscles ached and he was drenched in sweat. Every step seemed like torture as he left for the showers, the towel wrapped around his neck. The hot water was burning his skin, but at the same time it felt like the best thing in the world, relaxing his whole body and leaving him more tired and exhausted than before. He still didn't feel good, there were too many things going on inside his head and he couldn't just stop thinking like he had usually done it before. And it scared him. Hikaru was no longer topic no 1 in his mind. Now there was the whole thing about him piloting a Jaeger again and a certain Doctor was there too, smiling at him with those warm, intense eyes. He shook his head and turned off the water. Drying himself, he walked over to the sinks.

His reflection was nothing like the boy he had been when he first showed up here. The man in the mirror seemed too old. He still had the same fluffy hair, now dark from the water but usually golden with a hint of copper in the sunshine. His eyes were still the same greenish-blue, but his features were less round and delicate. He was all sharp angles, the lines in his face deeper, his skin paler, almost greyish and the dark shadows under his eyes seemed to almost swallow him up. And, of course, there were the few cuts and the faint bruises. Pavel sighed, rubbing a hand over his face and shaking his head slightly. He wondered how someone like Leonard could even see him as attractive - he was nothing but a wreck, thrown away and addicted to pitying himself in the dark of the night.

Sleep wasn't an option now, not when he had only a few hours left until he was supposed to be up again. He walked to the kitchen instead, hoping to find someone or at least some sort of coffee there. The silence unsettled him somehow; he wasn't used to complete silence anymore. The neighbours of the small apartment he had lived in for the last three years had been noisy. There had been the young couple, a few prostitutes, the single mother with her baby, and other people he had avoided most of the time. And even before, in the Shatterdome in Alaska, there had always been someone around, 24/7. The only sound he could hear was the low humming sound of the lights above him. Sneaking into the kitchen, he found something that at least smelled like coffee and instead of pouring himself a cup, he took the whole can with him.

He didn't want to return to his room, feeling trapped inside those metal walls and thus he wandered through the dome, without a real destination. Passing another set of doors and a few stairs, he reached a room that overlooked the hangar. It seemed almost empty, only three Jaegers filling the space. Two of them he recognised as T'hy'la and the Lady Enterprise. Spock, Kirk, Uhura and Scott. So they were all here. The third Jaeger was an unknown one but it was a beauty. It did resemble the Lucky Nightshade, but at the same time it didn't. It was a Mark III Jaeger too, probably still a nuclear powered one, but it seemed to be forged out of a different metal. The surface was different, just as the whole design. It was probably the one he was supposed to pilot. The Russian leant against the thick glass window, sipping his cold drink and grimacing at the horrible taste. But it was good, the caffeine would keep him awake for a little longer until the lights were back to 100% and he was expected in Pike's office once again, this time to start training with the last rangers that were willing to do this suicide mission Pike would send them on. He doubted that they would be different from the ones he fought against when he first arrived here. Pavel had been sixteen back then, young and inexperienced, arrogant and confident in his own abilities. Now, five years later, he felt like he had served for decades, having learnt a lot about the people and studied a wide range of different fighting techniques.

Sitting there and thinking he didn't notice how quickly the time passed until he felt a hand on his shoulder. At first he thought it was the Doctor again, but it was smaller, the fingers just a tiny bit thicker. "She's a beauty, isn't she." He recognised the voice immediately and not only because of the weird and heavy Scottish accent. The young man had held a grudge against his two friends, Nyota and Montgomery who had both seemingly forgotten about him, but now that he saw his friend for the first time in years, he felt his anger melt away within seconds and he jumped to his feet to hug the other. "Now now, laddie." But the other returned his embrace, patting his back in a soothing gesture. It felt weird, almost as if no time had passed since they left for the fight against the Kaiju named Tentalus and it would be so easy to slip back into his old, cheerful character, but the feeling disappeared as quickly as it had risen. Stepping back, he looked his friend up and down. Scotty had aged in those three years, more than he should have but it was probably the same with all rangers - their job was draining them of their youth and health. Even the Marshall looked different; his hair almost completely grey now and there was something in the way he moved. Pavel couldn't quite pinpoint it but he was sure something else was wrong with the man.

"Vhere is Nyota?" He downed the last bit of his coffee but continued to stare into his mug as if he was afraid that the other might ask questions himself, questions he didn't want and couldn't answer. Questions about what had happened, where he had been during those three years of absence.

"She's with Spock and Jim. They were hoping to find you in the mess." The older pilot shrugged and scratched the back of his head. "She missed you, you know. We both missed you, lad." Pavel had missed them too, he had missed Scotty's odd humour and the way Nyota had always tried to take care of him. The woman had dragged him on shopping tours, had played with his hair, she had even once talked him into painting his fingernails, something Hikaru had only laughed about afterwards. The Russian had always suspected she had been harbouring some motherly feelings for him but they had grown so close in the two years of fighting side by side, that it seemed like the most unimportant thing in the world why exactly she was so fond of him. And then Scotty grinned from one ear to the other, as he leant closer to his younger friend. "Ya know what, laddie..." He sounded excited, happy and incredibly excited. "We're getting a baby."

At a loss for words he simply stared for a little moment before his lips curled into a wide smile. "Zis is vonderful!" Scotty only nodded, the grin on his face even widening, if that was in any way possible. "It's a lass." He proudly held up his right hand, showing the slender silver ring. "We're going to marry as soon as the mission's over."

He felt truly happy for his friends and it seemed as if the man in front of him brightened the room a lot. And suddenly it felt like he had really done the right thing to return. He belonged here with his friends. They had been the first one to give him something else aside from studying and training and always fighting: a family. He threw a last glance at the third Jaeger before he followed the Scottish man out of the room and down to the mess where the others were probably still busy with their breakfast. Instead of silence he was now greeted by the usual hustle bustle, people were walking the hallways, greeting them both and wishing them a good morning. It was as if the silence and the darkness of the night had been a mere illusion, just like the last years felt like nothing but an illusion, a bad dream he had finally awoken from. Only that the most important part was still missing and his heart was still in pieces, even if they didn't hurt that much anymore.

As soon as they were through the doors of the mess hall, he heard someone call out his name and merely seconds later he was pulled into an embrace. "Privet Nyota." Back then they had spent whole evenings only talking Russian because Nyota Uhura had specialised in foreign languages on top of her ranger training, and it wasn't only Russian and English she was fluent in. She had been the best cure for his homesickness and whenever they had found the time, they had even gone out to search for a place that sold Russian food.

Once the woman let go of him, he couldn't help but glancing at her belly. She wasn't showing yet and his obvious interest was followed by a raised eyebrow and a 'Scotty told you, didn't he?'. He only grinned. "Congratulations. I feel wery happy for you." His attention was drawn to the other two men who were standing behind his friend, both tall and handsome. One of them, the slightly taller one, had dark hair with a weird bowl cut, equally dark eyes, and a somewhat stoic expression. The other was blonde and had baby-blue eyes and a wide grin on his face. So they had to be... "James Tiberius Kirk, but call me Jim." The man stepped forward and grabbed his hand, squeezing it. "And this is Spock." The man with the stoic expression nodded and uttered a polite: 'Greetings Mister Chekov. I have heard a lot about you.' His face wasn't displaying any kind of emotion. The two seemed like complete opposites and yet they were without doubt the very best Jaeger pilots, their list of kills a lot longer than anyone else's. "I haff heerd a lot about you too." He offered both of them a smile, before Nyota interrupted the slightly awkward conversation and dragged him away to get him some food. He had definitely lost weight in the last years and that was something she couldn't tolerate. "You're not going to starve to death under my watch, Pasha!"

They were all called to the local command centre after the short breakfast during which Nyota had tried to feed him with two buns, a bowl of cereals, and a huge piece of cake, explaining to him how important it was to eat enough. She had also ordered him to get some sleep as soon as possible because he looked like he needed it. He had felt almost carefree during this hour, being able to relax a bit and listen to the others' chatter.

Now they were all standing around the Marshall and his graphics of the breach, listening to his plan. They were supposed to get a bomb to the breach and then simply blow it up? Other rangers had tried before and it had never worked, so what was different this time? But Pike only said that it would work. And if he said so, it had to be. T'hy'la would be the one to carry the bomb; he was the fastest and the most agile Jaeger that remained. The Lady Enterprise and Jaeger name for McChekov would be the ones to secure their way. It sounded like a suicide mission, but everybody else seemed to believe that it would work. Maybe it was going to. Maybe they actually had some hope for once. It was something the Russian hadn't dared believe in; hope was easily crushed but now that he was _home_ it seemed like there was still something that was worth hoping for.

"Mister Chekov." He looked up, pushing the thoughts aside to focus on what was going on around him. "The other rangers are waiting in the Kwoon Combat Room. We will test your physical compatibility with them. Nobody expects you to find another soul mate or that your new partner will be as fit to work with you as Mister Sulu was. But we want you to at least try." Everybody in the room stared at him, expecting his answer but he only nodded. "Aye ser." He wanted to add that they shouldn't have any hope though, but he didn't. He was supposed to try but he already knew that there was no one who would be compatible with him, not physically and not psychologically.

And he was right. It felt like he was reliving the situation from five years ago, only that he was even faster now, beating every single opponent without hesitating. But instead of the smug smile that had adorned his face last time, his lips were pressed together now, a heavy frown lingering on his features. He was useless. Unable to trust anyone else, unable to work and fight with someone he wouldn't be able to help the others on their mission. He would be going back to sitting around, smoking, and getting into fights to make himself feel like there was still something he was good at.

"If I may excuse myself, ser..." He didn't wait for the Marshall's reaction; instead he threw the staff away and left. The clatter of the wood on the ground was frighteningly loud, as it had gone completely silent once again. Pavel felt them looking at him; he saw Nyota take a step forward out of the corner of his eye but Scotty held her back. They couldn't help him.

The ranger didn't even hesitate this time; he headed directly towards the medical department, letting the door fall shut behind him. "Leonard?" The man was bent over his desk, obviously filling out a form but he looked up as soon as he heard his name. There was worry in his gaze and sympathy, seeing how stressed out and exhausted the Russian looked. "Guess you're here for my offer to get drunk, huh? Give me a minute, kid. I'll be with you right away." And in fact he didn't have to wait very long, though he wouldn't have minded anyway. It calmed him to see the doctor work, he had the steadiest hands Pavel had ever seen and he seemed to care so much about his patients. Once the older man was done, he introduced him to his head nurse, Miss Chapel, before motioning for the younger man to follow him.

Leonard's room was only a few floors away from his own and he was quickly ushered inside. "Sit wherever you want." It was the standard furniture so there was only one chair and the bed. Pavel chose the edge of the bed, sitting down and watching the other rummage around in his closet until he pulled out a bottle, filled with a golden liquid. "Ever tried Bourbon before? Best you can find around here." He joined him on the bed, sitting on the other end, offering him the bottle. "I don't have glasses so I hope you don't mind..." The Russian shook his head and took the bottle, taking a mouthful and almost choking. It was the familiar burn but the taste was different from everything he had tried before. Okay, he was usually the one to stick to his vodka but from time to time he tried other things too. He gulped down what he had in his mouth and took another sip. This time it was better. Then he handed the bottle back to its owner.

They weren't talking, just sitting there and drinking, just like the last time until Leonard began to softly hum. It was a soft tune, one he had never heard before but to the exhausted and tired Russian it was like a lullaby and he felt his eyelids getting heavier and heavier just as his head got lighter with every sip of alcohol. "Leonard..." he mumbled, leaning closer and resting his head on the man's shoulder. He was warm. The other laid an arm around his shoulders, pulling him a little closer and holding him there. "Yeah kiddo?" Pavel opened his mouth to say something but he didn't get to even start, as the sound of the door startled him.

"Whoa! Bones!" He winced, hastily pulling back and sitting up straight again, blinking furiously to get his eyes accustomed to the light again and to see who it was that was standing in the door. It was the ranger with the blonde, tousled hair and the very blue eyes. Jim. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt anything." The man winked and turned around, leaving them alone again. And suddenly the comfortable silence turned awkward.

Pavel stood up, swaying slightly but quickly regaining his balance. "I should better go. Zank you... for eweryzeng, Len." The doctor only nodded. "Good night, Pavel."

This time he did sleep and for the first time in over three years, he wasn't haunted by nightmares.


End file.
